Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
by queenarlayna
Summary: Cullen and Evie spend their first Christmas together after an unfortunate incident occurs.


It was Christmas Eve and Cullen was standing in the middle of the supermarket with three trolleys stuffed with Maker knows what Evie had thrown in them. He watched her reach for sesame seed crackers on her tip toes, slender fingers wriggling and fumbling the box. Unsuccessful, she turned to him with a pout on her face and wide eyes.

Cullen sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. A headache was coming, his feet were sore and he doubted they had enough money to pay everything. He grabbed the box of crackers and handed them to Evie, who gave him a smile.

'Are we done?' It was late, he was hungry and he wanted to go home.

'Don't be a grump,' - her eyes suddenly widened - 'don't be a grinch!'

Cullen hid his small smile with a roll of his eyes. 'I'll be even more of a grinch if we don't go now.'

Three hundred and forty-seven dollars and thirty-two cents later, Cullen was driving home as Evie turned up the sound system as Hark the Herald Angels Sing played. Cullen could feel his eyes straining to stay open, knew the dark circles under his eyes were the darkest they've ever been. But exhaustion and Christmas carols that wasn't what was on Cullen's mind: the amount of money they've spent, the effort she is putting into this holiday, the number of damn Christmas cards he's had to write and sign with her have drained him.

If this is what it's going to be like every year…

No way.

Cullen could feel Evie watching him carefully as they unloaded the bags from the car and hauled them into the house. They'd been given the keys to the house only two months ago, and the new house feeling was starting to wear away. He remembered how to get there a lot easier now and the sound of the door unlocking is familiar. So much better than their old apartment. The ceiling had cracked and when it gave, Evie had been in the room. Cullen had come home after work and had found her motionless on the floor under the material. The trip to the hospital was terrifying - his palms were clammy, his head was spinning, his eyes were prickling. His heart was swollen with a rush of concern, fear and love. He almost felt sick with the anxious thoughts sprinting around his head: Please don't leave me - you can't die - I need - don't die - hold on - I love you.

That was three months ago. Brain scans determined Evie as lucky to be alive and with no brain damage; however, her left hand and most of her arm had been broken. A court case determined that the landlord of the apartment building compensated for the damages to their belongings and evacuated the rest of the building as it was not any condition to be rented out. A month after that, they'd found their current home and worked non-stop to make the payments. Cullen worked overtime, smashing out deals like they were endless. Evie's arm made a swift recovery and she was back to scheduling her regulars for personal training for every day of the week.

But things stopped being normal. Their morning runs stopped. Evie refused to let Cullen help her when her sling got in the way of her task. She went to the physio without him. She stopped singing when she cooked, she pulled away from him in bed when she thought he was asleep; sometimes in the morning when she made him his tea, she turned the kettle on again and cried quietly. When she spoke to him, it was a routine: How was your day, love? Do you want tea? Dinner is in the oven when you want it. I'm going to bed now. And that was it.

It wasn't until the festive season started that Evie settled into a slightly more normal routine, but she avoided him, usually out shopping with Vivienne and Cassandra, and when she came home, she fell asleep on the lounge or in their spare room.

Waking up without his wife beside him was agony. He missed her, but how can he get her back?

A week before Christmas, unable to figure out what was wrong, Cullen had called Dorian one day from work.

'To what do I owe the pleasure, Cullen?'

There's a million things and I don't know where to start. 'Evie hasn't been herself recently.'

'Of course she hasn't. She had a roof fall on her head.'

'That's not what I mean.' Cullen groaned, exasperated at everything. 'She isn't herself. She doesn't feel like… Evie anymore.' He rubbed his temples and tried to stop the headache pounding at the back of his head. 'I just don't know what to do.'

'Are you blind and stupid?'

'That's beside the point.'

'Maybe pull your head out of your arse and realise she needs you to pay more attention to her.' Dorian huffed. 'Evelyn is a stubborn woman, even more so than you, but she's a mess. She doesn't know what to do. She's injured, confused, working too hard. She called me the other day crying, thinking you don't want her anymore because she's broken.'

How can she think… Cullen swallowed the lump in his throat and listened.

Dorian cleared his throat and paused for a moment before asking, 'When's the last time you ravished your wife, hmm? When's the last time you held her in your arms and made her feel loved?'

'How is that any of your business?' Cullen glanced around the office as the heat crawled up his neck to his face. He could feel his ears burning and thanked the Maker no one was paying attention to him. When was the last time? It had to have been before her injury. That had to be, what? Three months? Shit. He'd been so busy and caught up in moving to their new house, he had hardly noticed.

'I'm going to get all sentimental and romantic for just a second, okay? She needs you now, so get your act together and help her.'

'But how?'

'Do I have to hold your hand and show you how?'

With a grumble and a quick 'thank you', Cullen hung up and stared at his computer for a moment, pondering. How could Evie think she was broken? What did he do to make her feel that way? Dorian was right; he needed to get himself together and get her to see she is anything but.

As Evie started to put away the groceries, Cullen took the designated bags of presents into the second bedroom, one Evie sometimes fell asleep in. Cullen's chest tightened at the messy sheets and small pillow Evie had been using on occasion. Was sleeping next to him that painful? Cullen's determination to change things burned brighter - he dumped the presents (without damaging any of them) into the room and went to the study - now his home office - to get everything ready.

Maker, please let this work.

His heart was hammering against his ribs. He clutched the things he'd bought in his shaking hands. He opened his mouth to call her name - the sound caught at the back of his throat and it came out like a strangled cry.

'Cullen?'

'Evie,' This was worse than the first time he'd kissed her, the first time he'd showed her what he felt and known in her eyes, lips, wandering hands that she felt the same.

Now, he wasn't as sure.

'Darling, close your eyes.' He was waiting in the hall, unseen from the kitchen.

'Um, okay, why?'

'Do you trust me?' Please.

'Of course.'

'Then don't open your eyes until I say so.'

Cullen walked to the kitchen and saw Evie, her eyes shut and a worried look creasing her face. He continued to adjoining living room and laid out his plan. Two thick blankets, a bottle of her favourite brandy, a selection of her favourite Christmas movies, and her gift. He kept the last piece of the plan in his hand and moved to the kitchen.

'What are you doing?' The crease between her brows deepened when she heard Cullen approach. 'We have to get things ready for tomorrow.'

He couldn't stop staring. Her grey sweater was loose and fell to her thighs. Her dark blue jeans hugged her legs and curled under her feet. Her thick red curls rolled over her shoulders and down to the small of her back, glowing in the dim light of the kitchen. She was beautiful; his light, his anchor, his dream. How could he have let her think anything less?

Cullen stood a mere inch in front of her, but he could feel the wall she'd put up between them. 'You can open them now.'

When she did, Cullen realised he hadn't gazed upon her properly in a long time. Her dark emerald stared back at him. He could see the questions she wanted to ask and he wanted to ease her mind, but instead of answering he simply said, 'Look up.'

Her eyes widened when she saw the tiny branch of mistletoe between his fingers. Her surprise faded into a warm smile as she placed her hands on his chest, one of them over his heart. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were gleaming. He leaned down, his breath skirting along her lips. He waited for her to come to him, his body stiff against hers. When her lips touched his, he melted. His body ignited and her smile widened as he pressed her against the bench, his hands tangled in her hair. He bit her bottom lip gently, eliciting a soft moan. Her hands found their way under his shirt, her cool touch leaving goose bumps down his spine. It felt so good, so warm, so right.

'I've missed you so much' he murmured along her jaw. 'I'm so so so sorry for not looking after you, for being there for you, for—'

Evie silenced him with another kiss, propping herself onto the bench. After a moment, she pulled herself away and said, 'I thought you wouldn't want to deal with me anymore.' Her eyes were brimming with tears – he kissed them away. She was breaking in his arms and he couldn't stop her. 'I just felt so useless and pathetic. I shouldn't have been in the room when it fell. I shouldn't have put you through all this.' She placed wet kisses on his nose, his lips, his forehead, then rested her head on his chest. 'I'm sorry.'

A moment passed in silence. Cullen rubbed her back and played with her hair – she loved it when he did that. He then cupped her face and titled her head up, swallowed the lump in his throat and kissed her nose. 'You have nothing to be sorry for.'

Evie choked out a sob and fell into his arms, her grip tight around his neck. Her legs hooked around his waist and he moulded her body against his. She was warm and perfect. He told her so – she only gripped him harder.

'You're not broken, love. You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.' Evie made a soft sound of protest but he stroked her hair, pressed kisses on her head and continued, 'You're independent and damn amazing sometimes I think you don't need me.'

She sniffled a little then looked up at him, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. The love and want he saw in her, all for him and only him – he wanted to dive right in.

'You'd be a damn idiot to believe that.'

That was all the confirmation he needed.


End file.
